


The Time Warp

by Adarian



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:38:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3172790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adarian/pseuds/Adarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After visiting the darkest of futures, Adaar and Dorian find themselves swung back in time and practically tripping over the Hero of Ferelden. The two scheme to get home quickly while not changing the future too severely. Written for a kink-meme prompt. </p><p>Now paired with spiritual successor: "Do We Become Assholes Or Something?". A very similar idea, but only with Hawke and Anders' child thrown back in 9:33 Dragon era Kirkwall. Also kink-meme prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dorian grabbed her arm, "There's no time, Herald. We have to go!"

Adaar hesitated, seeing her companions run out to their deaths. Dorian grabbed her arm, holding her as the Fade ripped open once again. The green swirled around them and she pleaded to the Maker that this time the nightmare would finally be over. 

***

Adaar opened her eyes and looked around, "There's no one here..."

Dorian opened his eyes hesitantly, looking around the main hall.

"We're in the right place," he said, "But...why is it so quiet?"

Adaar clapped her hand over his mouth and pointed towards the living corpses staggering toward them.

"I didn't do it," he insisted.

They heard the doors opening and they both ducked behind a pair of curtains, trying not to glance out at the intruding party. The others fought their way through the corpses, one elven woman barking directions.

Dorian looked out first and slid back in quickly.

"This isn't our timeline," he whispered.

Adaar glanced, pausing as she looked over the motley crew. It was then she saw Leliana. Healthy, strong, and at least a decade younger. She even had a flower braided into her hair. She was teasing a large Qunari man, who was currently rolling his eyes at her. The elven woman was attempting to break into a chest, a large human man beside her arguing with her. Looking over, she could see the rest. 

Adaar pulled back too late, the elf noticing her. She ran forward, pulling the curtain back and drawing her sword.

"Who are you?" She asked firmly.

Dorian exchanged a panicked look with Adaar and said quickly in a terrible accent, "I am Gustav of...Val Royeaux. I have come zere with my....assistant, Berna. She does not say a lot."

Adaar shot him a look before grunting. 

The human man came forward and glanced over them, "They're apostates, Tabris."

"Clearly, Alistair," she teased, "But the question is, why they're here. Jowan didn't mention any accomplices and they seem...well...not exactly competent."

"We are merchants," Dorian continued feebly, "This is just ze latest styles of Val Royeaux. Robes. Yes."

Tabris glanced to Leliana who shrugged, "Perhaps it is now. Though I doubt it. And they are carrying staffs."

Adaar pushed Dorian to the side, "We are apostates. We have found ourselves lost and in need of assistance."

Dorian covered her mouth with his hand, "Ignore her. She is...simple-minded, yes?"

Tabris raised an eyebrow, "Can either of you use those staffs? We could use another pair of hands clearing out the undead here. Either of you a healer?"

They shook their heads.

Tabris rolled her eyes, "Come along. We'll deal with you later."

The group glanced at them suspiciously as they walked by and Dorian pulled her to the back of the pack, whispering angrily to her.

"They can't know who we are, Herald," he hissed, "Leliana is right there. If we give her enough details that she recognizes us ten years later, we may have broken the space-time continuum." 

Adaar whispered back, "I don't even know what that means."

"It means shit gets screwed up," Dorian whispered angrily, "So say nothing. Touch nothing. Do nothing. We'll get back to that room, tear the Fade open again, and then we get the Void out of here."

The Qunari glanced back at them and they waved awkwardly.

"Okay, Gustav," Adaar grunted. 

"Thank you, Berna," he replied insincerely. 

***

Alistair and Tabris discussed the next steps with Bann Teagan and Lady Isolde, leaving the others alone in the next room. Adaar pulled Dorian over to the side.

"The main hall is locked," she whispered, "And there are guards everywhere. We couldn't get there alone long enough before anyone knew what was going on."

"It's too dangerous right now anyway," he replied, "If there's a demon here in that boy, we can't risk it coming through with us, especially if we end up in the wrong time again."

Adaar asked, "So what do we do?"

"We stay with them until that demon is slain," Dorian said, "We'll be safer with them than we will be around here."

"But Leliana?" Adaar asked, nodding towards the Bard.

Dorian whispered, "Be careful. Don't say anything about yourself that could get you in trouble. We are Orleasian apostates traveling to the Free Marches. Gustav, Berna."

Adaar nodded and they stepped away from each other as the two Wardens entered the room again.

Tabris walked towards them, her hand resting on the pommel of her sword.

"Now," she glanced at them both, "I am willing to give the two of you the benefit of a doubt. You fought along side us and helped us reach this point. It is unlikely at this point that you would be able to travel safely on your own with no gear. Particularly your Vasoth friend here. Join us and help us stop the Blight. I can offer you protection. No apostate under my care will be harmed."

Dorian smiled dopely and Adaar nudged him.

"We accept," Adaar said.

"Good," Tabris said, then turning to the others, "We leave at dawn for the Circle. Gather what supplies you can. We will camp outside the village...I don't like the smell of this place."

The Wardens led them out of the hall and into the smoldering remains of Redcliffe. Dorian touched Adaar's arm and they looked upwards, the rift in the Sky no longer visible, only stars. 

They stopped at a windmill overlooking the village and the Warden's party set up camp. The pair stood awkwardly to the side as the fire was started and tents raised. Alistair came over to them, handing out two tied up bed-rolls.

"We don't have any free tents right now," he apologized, "But we can get one for the two of you...or one for each-"

"We're not together," Dorian said quickly.

Alistair grinned sheepishly, "I didn't think so, but I didn't want to be rude. Gustav, there's space with me and Zevran. Berna, Leliana and Tabris share a tent just over there. Morrigan doesn't share. Sten also doesn't share, except with the dog. And Oghren kind of sleeps outside wherever he falls over. I usually just put a blanket over him."

Dorian followed Alistair, looking not so subtly at the future king's rear-end. Adaar rolled her eyes, glancing around those sitting at the fire. She hesitantly laid her bedroll with the other two ladies' and came back, sitting as far from Leliana as possible. 

Dorian sat down beside her, handing her a bowl of stew. They ate quietly, listening to the others talk amongst themselves.

Tabris sat down in between them with her own stew and said loudly, "So tell me about yourselves. I'm Louie, the big lug over there is Alistair, that's Zevran and Leliana. Sten is over there playing-sorry, "training"-with Huan, my dog, and Oghren is asleep over there. Morrigan is off...somewhere. I never know where she is, to be honest. So Gustav and Berna. You're from Orlais?"

"Southern Orlais," Dorian lied quickly, "We met a few years ago. We were trying to reach the Free Marches when this whole Blight business started."

"You have shit timing," Tabris laughed, "You probably just reached the border when Ostagar happened. Why the Free Marches?"

"I have family outside Ostwick," Adaar said, "We were trying to hide from Templars."

Dorian shot her a look as Adaar continued, "Gustav and I were merchants before all of this started. We sold...shoes."

"I love shoes!" Leliana exclaimed, "Tell me all about it!"

"I meant booze," Adaar corrected nervously, "We're brewers."

Dorian nodded awkwardly, "Yes. That."

"Interesting trade for apostates to get into," Tabris smirked.

"We just get the Templars too drunk to notice us," Adaar quipped.

Tabris laughed, "All right then. Hopefully that works for you at the Tower of Magi. It shouldn't be a long visit, in and out-"

Dorian laughed awkwardly and Adaar shot him a look.

"He gets giggly when he's tired," Adaar apologized, "Perhaps we should go wash up before bed, _Gustav_."

Dorian followed her down the hill towards the lake, Adaar dragging him by the collar once they were out of eyesight.

"You have to tell me everything you know about this time period," she whispered harshly.

"Me?" Dorian said, "I was barely 13 when the Blight happened and in Tevinter. At least you were on this side of Thedas and you know, an adult."

Adaar pointed out, "But you are the one with your head in books all day. You must know something useful you can share."

"Okay," Dorian said as she let go of his shirt, "Luthien Tabris, Hero of Ferelden. She's from the Alienage in Denerim. Killed the Bann's son if I remember correctly. She...well, she saves the world. From what I know she's a great defender of the poor and oppressed and well....really cool, I'll be honest. I always thought she was pretty amazing. Alistair, well, he becomes King of Ferelden, which I assume you knew. That guy Sten is the Arishok in our time. Leliana, you've met. I don't think I know anything about Morrigan and I've only heard of Zevran in passing. Oghren follows Tabris to Amaranthine after the Blight is over, I think he has a couple of kids. There's another companion named Wynne, I'm pretty sure they meet her at the Circle, but it's going to be a disaster there. There was a blood mage revolt, most people are going to be dead-SHIT. SHIT SHIT SHIT. Your man Cullen is there right now. Another person we can't have see us."

"UGH," Adaar groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Why are they all here?"

"Okay," Dorian reassured, "From the best I know, they save Connor after the Tower is in order. Then we should be able to reopen the portal and get out of here."

"How are we going to pull this off?" Adaar hissed.

They both froze, hearing someone walk towards them. They noticed a woman walking nearby. The woman paused, glancing over in their direction. She shook her head slightly, smirking as she walked off.

"Is that Morrigan?" Adaar asked quietly.

Dorian nodded, "Apparently she's a Witch of the Wilds, a very powerful sorcerer."

"Maybe she can help us," Adaar said.

Dorian shook his head, "We can't chance it, Herald."

"Let's head back," Adaar said quietly.

They returned to camp and helped the others clean up after dinner. Adaar curled into her bedroll, letting the Warden sleep in between her and Leliana. She was cramped, but felt warm and comfortable enough otherwise. In the light of the fire, she could see the two women sleeping beside her. The Hero of Ferelden snored terribly and slept on her stomach. Leliana, future Lady Nightingale, future Spymaster of the Inquisition, smiled in her sleep, a look of utter peace on her face. The last time she had seen her friend, Leliana was broken and bloodied, close to death. The last thing she had said to her was to run. Adaar had an urge to sweep her into her arms like a child, but resisted. Dorian was right. There were things they couldn't change.

***

They went north towards the Tower, Adaar near the back of the pack, Dorian near the front, flirting with Zevran. She rolled her eyes at the sight of him and remained mostly quiet, remaining by Sten, who said little and acknowledged her even less. She was not generally listening to the conversation, but she perked up when Leliana asked Dorian about his accent.

"Um, zit is different in ze southern part of Orlais, you must beez from Val Royeaux, perhabs in the um royal line? I am, how you say, very poor and um a peazant," Dorian struggled.

"And you, Berna," Leliana said, glancing back at her, "You do not have an accent I recognize."

"My Common must be better than I thought," she lied, "Dorian speaks a very specific dialect from Southernmireport."

"Oh, I have a friend from there," Leliana said cheerfully, "Do you know Rose DuBarr?"

"Oh look," Dorian said, pointing towards the left, "I think I see a bear."

Adaar walked ahead, pulling Dorian to her side.

"Stop being an idiot," she hissed in his ear, "And lay off that ridiculous accent."

"And tell them I'm from Tevinter?" He whispered back, "That will not go well."

Adaar rolled her eyes and shoved him away slightly. 

"Yo," Tabris called back, "You two. You want to come to the Tower with me? I don't understand any of this mage bullshit and Morrigan's no help."

"Yes!" Dorian said excitedly.

Adaar shot him a look and Dorian said nervously, "Let's be helpful, Berna. It's the least we can do to help the Hero of-I mean, the Warden Commander-shit-"

Adaar growled, "Sure, why bloody not?"

***

They stood at the docks, giving instructions to those being left behind. Tabris was the last to walk onto the boat, Sten pulling her back, saying something to her softly. She touched his arm and he let go, watching as she climbed on with them.

Dorian watched her, smiling as the woman blushed to herself. 

Once she was out of earshot, he giggled to Adaar, "He's in love with her."

"What?" Adaar laughed awkwardly.

"He called her kadan. My Qunlat is awful, but I've read enough tawdry books to know what that means," Dorian smirked. 

Adaar's face softened as she looked up at Tabris who was currently instructing the boatman as to which side to approach. 

"So they don't..."

"If he's Arishok," he shook his head, "They won't."

Dorian bit his lip, thinking, and Adaar warned him, "You were the one who told me about messing up the time line. That's a pretty big mess up."

"But they love each other," Dorian insisted, "Shouldn't they be happy-"

Morrigan turned, "What are you two whispering about?"

"Nothing," they chimed together.

 

***

Adaar woke happily in her bed, the summer morning light trickling through her shutters. She stretched out, her arm hitting the man beside her. She shuffled up, pulling the sheets around her. The man grumbled, pulling the blankets back over his head.

"Blackwall?" She asked in confusion.

"It is too early, lass," he mumbled, "Come back to bed."

He put his arm around her and she sighed.

"The Fade," she grumbled, "I'm in the bloody Fade."

***

Adaar gasped, getting off of the cold floor of the Tower. She saw Dorian nearby and helped him to his feet. 

"I was just being fed grapes by the most enchanting desire demon," Dorian sighed, "A few more minutes would have been just fine by me."

Tabris rolled her eyes, "Come on, kids. We've got the Scroll. Let's just freaking get out of here. You okay, ladies?"

Wynne and Morrigan followed behind them through the corridors. Dorian stood by Adaar, keeping his hand on his staff. Tabris ran ahead, calling for the others to follow. As they entered the room, Adaar skidded to a stop, throwing her arm out to stop Dorian from entering.

"It's Cullen," she hissed.

Dorian whispered, "He looks too distraught to notice us. Let the Warden handle it."

"Andraste," Adaar murmured, "He looks in rough shape."

"He's got a decade to get better," Dorian reminded, "Stay back."

"You know you're very inconsistent with this whole no interference thing," Adaar complained, "I'm a monster because I want to braid Leliana's hair but you want to throw off the whole Qunari political structure so you can have two strangers make out."

"That's not-"

"Something you want to share with the rest of us, Orleasians?" Tabris called out.

"Notzing," Dorian said, "Just...'orrified by the Tower. It is...so very sad."

"Your accent is as awful as your mustache," Adaar hissed.

"At least I can grow one," Dorian said. 

Tabris folded her arms across her chest, "Let's continue, shall we?"

***

Upon return to the Spoiled Princess, both Adaar and Dorian found themselves being dragged by their ears into Tabris' bedroom and thrown onto the ground.

"You folks want to start explaining yourselves?" Tabris sighed. 

Dorian began, "Vat are you-"

"Okay, drop the accent, it's giving me a headache," Tabris demanded, "Real names. Now."

"Kusala Adaar," the Herald said, "This is Dorian Pavus."

Dorian gave her a panicked look and Adaar continued, "It's a very long story, but Dorian and I are very, very far from home. We need to get back to Redcliffe as soon as possible. I can't explain to you why, but I can tell you it's incredibly important."

Tabris raised an eyebrow, "Tevinter's the other direction, you know."

Dorian interrupted, "We're not magisters, I promise you. We were sent on a mission from the Chantry and it was interrupted. We need to get back to Redcliffe Castle and to the exact place you found us. There's a ritual we need to complete before we are able to go back home. We're opening a portal to get back faster, but it needs to be in that very spot."

"You're not blood mages?" Tabris asked, "I'd hate to have to throw you in the lake and see if you float."

"Does that even work?" Adaar asked.

Dorian rolled his eyes, "We're not. We're...essentially secret agents of the Chantry. It's long and complicated and we don't have time to explain it. We would love to stay and help you defeat the Blight, but we can't."

Tabris shook her head, "Fine. We're leaving for Redcliffe in the morning. I want no funny business, do you understand? And please. Please. For the love of the Maker. No more fake accents. You can throw that false mustache off too. It's just absurd."

Dorian's jaw dropped and Adaar covered her mouth to stop from laughing.

"I'll be downstairs," Tabris said, "You should come have a few drinks."

Adaar smiled, "We'd be delighted to."

Dorian shot her a panicked look before smiling to Tabris, "Sure."

Once Tabris had left the room, Adaar whispered, "This is all your fault."

"My fault? You're the one basically waving the fact we're time travellers in everyone's face. Oh Warden-Commander, you're so amazing. Oh Hero of Ferelden, won't you sign your autograph for me?"

"And you should have fixed this amulet ages ago! We've been here two days already. We should have been back in our time by now."

"How was I supposed to do that?" Dorian said, "We've had the Hero of Ferelden watching over our shoulders and she already thought we're blood mages. Stupid blood mages, but blood mages."

Adaar sighed, "Fine. We'll go downstairs. We've still got another two days probably until we get out of here. Let's make some small talk, not drink AT ALL, and get back up here and fix that damn thing. Be super honest and nice to the Hero of-Tabris. Warden Tabris. Avoid Alistair. Avoid Leliana. Avoid the Arish-Sten. The dwarf and the assassin are probably safe. Maybe Wynne. Just be...cool."

***

It took less than twenty minutes for Dorian to be dancing on top of a table with Zevran as the rest of the companions clapped their hands. Adaar had Tabris sitting on her lap, the Warden laughing heartily.

Damn, Adaar thought, the woman had a way with people. A quick drink and already the group had accepted their new information and taken them completely into their fold. She could learn a thing or two.

"They make a cute couple, eh?" Tabris said, "I've heard he's great in the sack and your friend could use a few screws tightened, am I right?"

"It couldn't hurt," Adaar laughed.

"Now how about you? Nice man? Lady?" Tabris said, looking around, "Now Alistair's more virgin than quality olive oil, but I imagine he's a good kisser. He's got that look about him. Leliana falls in love every thirty minutes, so she might be a good bet. Or we can find you someone else. That Templar was cute today, eh? Poor bastard."

"I'm okay," Adaar chuckled.

"You have someone back home, eh?" Tabris said, "I get it. It's a shame. I keep throwing people at Alistair and he blushes them to death. It's a real talent."

"So you two..."

"Oh Maker no," Tabris laughed, "How about Sten? I imagine you don't find a lot of Qunari around here. It'd be nice not having a man that's constantly got his head in your rack, eh?"

"I thought his interests might lie elsewhere," Adaar said, drinking into her pint.

"Yes," Tabris chuckled, "Baked goods. Give a man a cookie and he'll follow you anywhere. I'm not worried about a Qunari invasion anytime soon. Come on, I'm going to get us another drink. Stay here. The bar stools are way too hard on my ass."

The elf hopped off, leaving Adaar momentarily alone. She watched Dorian dance and she drank the last of her pint slowly. Tabris came back, two large drinks in her hands. 

"What?" Tabris asked, glancing over her, "Do I have something on my face?"

Adaar shook her head, "No. I just feel a little weird, that's all. Nervous, I guess."

"Then either stop drinking or drink a lot more," Tabris laughed, clinking her glass against hers, "No point being afraid. Whatever happens, happens. You can't change much about that. 

Adaar drank deep into her mug and slammed it on the bar.

Adaar smirked, "I think you might be wrong about that."

***

When the ritual was done and Connor was rescued, Tabris accompanied the pair into the throne room, ordering the others to stay behind. Dorian went first, holding the amulet as the portal opened before them.

Adaar turned to face the Warden, running her hands through her hair as she cleared her throat. 

"Look," Adaar said, "We've made a decision and if this somehow screws up all of Thedas, we both apologize right now."

Dorian said, "Warden-Commander Tabris...we're from the future, about a decade from now. Turns out, you do manage to save Ferelden, both you and Alistair live. But a lot of bad things happen after that. The mages rebel from the Chantry and go to war with the Templars and there is someone currently trying to tear the world in two. Literally in two."

Tabris frowned, "What in the blazing shit are you talking about?"

Dorian tried to convince her, "Look, in our time, there's an Elder One, I believe a Tevinter magister. One of his followers Alexius was attempting to remove my friend here from the time line. People think Andraste chose her, it's...complicated."

"So we figure," Adaar said, gesturing between her and Dorian, "Since we've messed things up already by being here, that if he was going to use time travel to his advantage, we might as well use it to ours."

Tabris said, "I'd ask you to prove it, but I imagine that wouldn't be worth it. So...whatcha got, mages?"

Adaar said quickly, "You're going to meet a guy named Anders when you get to Amaranthine, just after the Blight. Stick to him, do not let him out of your sight. EVER. If he tries to leave, you go after him."

"Anders isn't a real name," Tabris rolled her eyes.

"Whatever," Adaar continued, "Man, what else..."

"Sten becomes the Arishok," Dorian blurted out.

"We said we weren't going to-" Adaar reminded.

"I'm a sucker," Dorian apologized and then turned back to Tabris, "Kadan means "my heart". He's clearly in love with you "If you let him go back to Seheron, he'll become Arishok within a few years and you'll never see him again. Probably. If you don't make your move now, you'll lose him." 

Tabris went bright red and cleared her throat, "What else?"

"Be really nice to Leliana," Adaar said, "Buy her shoes and pretty things and pet her hair. Protect her and cherish her. Please. Keep her safe."

"The Wardens go missing, you may want to look into that," Dorian said, "And apparently there's another Warden named Blackwall in southern Ferelden, but we don't know where. You may want to look him up."

Adaar smiled, "He's probably in his thirties then. Bright blue eyes, lovely black beard, great laugh, dirty sense of humour-"

"Excuse her," Dorian rolled his eyes, "She's a little infatuated." 

"Someone murders the Divine at the Conclave because of the Mage Rebellion," Adaar added, "That might be important. It happens in Haven. You'll be there soon enough."

"Can't believe I forgot that," Dorian agreed, "That's good too."

"Okay, enough," Tabris said, putting her hands up, "I get the idea. Thank you for all of your help. Now you should pop on through your little portal and fix things on your end. Maybe we'll be seeing each other in 10 years. If we do, tell me I look good, regardless of whether I do or not."

Adaar stuck out her hand to shake, "Thanks, Warden."

"No problem, Herald," Tabris grinned, "Go kick some ass."

Dorian took Adaar's hand and pulled her through.

****

Adaar looked up, grinning as she saw Cassandra and Sera looking at her in dismay. She turned over to face Alexius, Dorian holding the amulet in his hands.

"Hi again," Adaar smirked.

****

When they returned to Haven, they were still trying to hold it together. Some things had to have changed, but neither of them could tell at first glance. There was still a big hole in the sky, for instance, and besides Cullen having remarkably awful hair, nothing really seemed out of place.

Until they saw Leliana.

She walked out of the Chantry, giggling as she linked arm and arm with Josephine. Leliana looked up and ran over.

"You're back!" She cheered, "Come on over. I'm sure you have a lot of questions."

They both glanced at each other and Leliana smirked, "Oh come on, now, we've waited nearly ten years to have this conversation. I want to know everything. I was being ever so sneaky the past few weeks. When I saw you at the temple, I nearly started laughing."

Leliana took them over into her tent, closing the flap.

"So," Dorian asked hesitantly, "Has everything changed?"

Leliana said, "It's hard to guess, since I don't know everything in the original timeline. But my suspicion is this: there are certain things that were bound to happen, regardless of what we might try to change. The Breach still happened, even with warning. I've written and studied both you and Adaar's personal histories. You can review later when you're ready. I imagine neither of you were greatly affected as neither of you were in Ferelden at the time. It might be only things that Warden Commander Tabris herself played a part in, as she and I were the only ones who had any knowledge and she only informed me herself a few months ago. So...few things have changed, yes. But you may have just given us an edge, and perhaps made a few people's lives a bit better."

"So," Leliana said, pulling out her books, "You'll want to know everything, I imagine. I've been studying this some time. Tabris was never very interested, but I wanted to know all about theories of time travel. Dorian, you especially will want to look. And you'll want to know alternate history. Though you might be disappointed. Things might be a lot closer to what you think. The Divine is dead-"

"Did you serve her?" 

Leliana shook her head, "Not really. I was involved mainly involved in the social circles. I dabbled in the Game, a little. It was only Josephine who got me into the Inquisition."

Adaar sighed in relief, "Sorry, go on."

"Well," Leliana said, "Both Alistair and Tabris survived, like you said. Anders never left Ferelden. He's still serving in Amaranthine, apparently quite happily in love with Warden Commander Howe. The whole area has been quite prosperous. The Wardens are all located, by the way. Since they were informed of Corpheyus' plot so early-"

"Who's Corpheyus?" Adaar asked.

"The magister, the Elder One," Leliana said, "You warned Tabris about him."

"It was a guess," Dorian said, "I had no idea I was right."

"An original darkspawn," Leliana said, "They encountered a creature called the Architect in Amaranthine, there was a lot of research done. The Wardens have been here since the Conclave, but none of them were present when it was destroyed, luckily. We found that Warden you mentioned, Blackwall. He was instrumental in helping to rebuild the Grey Wardens. Unfortunately, he went to his Calling a few years ago."

Adaar shook her head, "That's impossible. Blackwall was alive in our timeline. Is there not a Warden here, an ally-"

"We have a Warden Constable by the name of Thom Rainier," Leliana said, "He was apparently quite close to Blackwall until his death. Apparently the former Warden-Commander Tabris herself sent him as an emissary. Something about him looking the part."

"I'm sorry," Adaar said, "I need to-"

She got up to go as Dorian pulled the books from Leliana, gossiping with her. Adaar went down to the blacksmith, her heart fluttering slightly. She saw a man about the same height, his hair pulled back in a messy bun, chopping wood.

He looked up with surprise, "My lady, you're back from Redcliffe already?"

"Thom," she laughed, seeing the same man she knew in front of her, "What..."

"Are you all right?" He asked, "You look like you've had a shock."

"How...what..." 

"Something bothering you?" He said, putting down the axe, "Here, come inside, I'll get you a glass of water."

"Um," Adaar said, trying to be coherent, "I have a few questions about you...so...um...tell me about yourself. Where are you from? Why are you here? I'm having...yeah."

"Leliana told everyone you were in a bit of a fog after the whole experience with the mages," he said kindly, "Well, my name is Thom Rainier, as you know-"

"Of course," Adaar said nervously, "I know that. Totally. And how did you become a Warden?"

"Well," Rainier said, leading her inside, "I was a Captain in Orlais and I made...decisions I was not proud of in my part of the Game. I exiled myself, hiding from the law, and a man named Blackwall found me. He recruited me into the Wardens and I served with his battalion for...three years I think. I became a recruiter myself and spent most of my time in Ferelden. Warden-Commander Tabris requested me to join the Inquisition herself. I have been fortunate enough for the woman to have taken a shine to me."

Adaar smiled in confusion, sitting down, "She sent you? Why?"

Rainier cleared his throat, "She has always had...unusual reasons for doing things. She thought I might do well under your leadership."

Adaar smiled softly, "Well, I'll have to thank her, I guess."

"You might have difficulty with that," he said, "She's terribly hard to keep track of. The last I heard, she was in Seheron with her kids."

"Kids?" Adaar asked in surprise.

"Four girls," Rainier said, "I've met the eldest two, very sweet. Their father is Qunari of all things. They're hornless, like you are. She's very protective of them. I've met her lover. Never met such a dour man."

Adaar chuckled, "I should get back to the Chantry. It was good talking with you, Thom."

He smiled in return, "Any time, my lady."


	2. Do We Become Assholes Or Something?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spiritual sequel to "The Time Warp" (but not really, since I switched out the Wardens). Hawke and Anders' son gets thrown back into Kirkwall during 9:33 Dragon. Written for a kink-meme prompt who wanted Back to the Future references.

"Papa, I'm going to be fine."

His father held him closer, bringing him just under his chin. His father buried his face in his neck before kissing him on the top of his head.

Cullen smiled at his father. Wilhelm was into his fifties now, his blonde hair speckled with white. His brown eyes looked over him in worry.

"You are a miracle from the Maker himself," Wilhelm insisted. "To see you grown...a man. I could never have wished for such a beautiful thing." 

His mother groaned and rolled her eyes. Adaia gave Wilhelm a polite push away and held Cullen close to her.

"Now," she said, "you're going to be on your best behaviour in Skyhold, right? You're representing the Hawke name. Don't give Teacher Pavus any lip and you're not to spend your entire stipend drinking and gambling with Varric. You're here to learn. The Inquisitor has been very generous in hosting you here. I want you to have fun, but try to stay out of trouble."

"I'll try, Mama," Cullen promised, squeezing her tight. 

His five siblings clamored over him, saying their goodbyes all at once. He made sure he gave each a hug or kiss before they ran off, stealing treats from their assorted honoury aunts and uncles. Adaia whistled for them, signaling for them to get back into the caravan. 

Wilhelm hugged his son again and Cullen laughed.

"I'm fine, Papa," he promised. "I'll be home for holidays and I'm less than three days away by horseback. You told me yourself that this was the safest place to practice magic. Everyone knows me here. Skyhold is practically my second home. You don't need to worry about me so much."

"I know," Wilhelm apologized, smiling weakly. "You're all grown up. I'm...really proud of you. I hope you know that. I love you."

"I love you too, Papa," Cullen said, kissing his father on the cheek. 

Wilhelm wiped away his tears as Adaia whistled for him.

"I'll see you in a few months," Cullen promised. "And I'll write everyday."

"I'd like that. I want to hear all about it!" Wilhelm said, climbing onto the back with the rest of his children.

"Say goodbye to Cullen!" Adaia called out.

"Bye!"

Cullen stood, waving as his family pulled out of sight. He heard a slight sniggering from the shadows and groaned, seeing Kieran and Zola giggling at him.

"Bye Papa," Zola sighed mockingly, "I'll miss you so much. Boo hoo hoo. How will I ever sleep at night? Kieran, hold me."

Kieran laughed, catching the Qunari as she threw herself at him. 

"Well, excuse me for having feelings," Cullen said before sticking out his tongue. "Both of you live here and see your parents every day."

"My Mom is the Hero of Ferelden," Kieran pointed out. "Not every day."

"Mine is the Inquisitor," Zola chimed in. "But you see, we're more mature than you. When we were teenagers, maybe we would have been so weepy too."

"Okay," Cullen said. "I'm 18 now. Maybe when we were kids you could make fun of me. But now, 22 and 23 are barely older than me. A little respect? Maybe?"

"At least he's not part of the Boom," Kieran agreed.

As if they heard him, the herd of 13 and 14 year olds passed by, chasing after one of the Adaar twins. Brian? Maybe Brian? Cullen was never able to tell them apart. Zola claimed she could, but she was their half-sister. It would be sad if she couldn't. 

"Come on," Cullen said. "Dorian's going to kick our collective asses if we don't get back to class." 

***

"Okay, I think I figured it out."

Cullen yawned, leaning on Kieran's shoulder.

"Zola," Cullen said sleepily, "you have been saying this for nearly a month. Rift magic is a dead art. No one needs it. You're wasting time trying to learn a craft that doesn't exist anymore. It's two in the morning. Can we go back to bed?"

Kieran twitched back awake and nodded, trying not to yawn.

"Dorian is going to hear us," Kieran said. "Cullen's right. Let's go. We've got an oral exam on the Blessed Age tomorrow. Please just let me sleep."

"Why not go back and see it ourselves?" Zola offered. "Listen, I have all of Dorian's notes right here from his work with Alexius. I think I know how to actually do it. I think I can step through time." 

"Didn't they nearly rip a hole in space and time and screw everything up?" Cullen reminded. "I think the summary of the lesson was to NOT do that. 

Zola waved him off. "We're not in the middle of the end of the world. I'm not saying let's go back and get Andraste off the pyre and hand out cigars. I'm just saying we take a look around, take a few notes, and head home."

"This is very stupid," Kieran muttered. "If you were interested in doing that, why wouldn't you just talk to my mother?"

"Morrigan scares me," Zola admitted, "and you know she would never approve of this. I'm surprised she hasn't just known what I was up to and swoop down to stop me."

"I'm going to bed," Cullen said, standing up. "You too, Kieran?"

Zola sighed and stretched her hands forward, bringing into being a green orb. The men both stopped, gazing out onto it. Kieran tried to touch it and pulled his hand back. 

Zola grasped at it, the light reflecting off her skin.

"So much for a dead art," she teased.

"I'm getting Dorian," Kieran said, running up the stairs.

"You're no fun!" Zola called after him.

Cullen stepped forward, tapping it lightly. It felt almost like fire, but his skin was unharmed. He stroked it while Zola smirked.

"Where would it take you?" Cullen asked.

"Where you wanted. It needs to be a place you have a connection to. Somewhere you've been before, a place an ancestor walked. I'm still playing around with it. I don't want to end up in a Seheron civil war or something."

Cullen turned slightly, his fingers still on the orb when Dorian came chasing down the stairs. Zola stepped back as Dorian waved his staff towards the orb, causing it to expand outwards. Cullen tried to step back, but it pulled him in. The last words he heard were Dorian's. 

"Shit. Not again."

***

Cullen gasped as he broke the surface of the water. Maker, it was cold! He swam forward, pulling himself up onto the dock. He shivered, rubbing his arms as he tried to find a spot to dry off. He ignored the strange looks and found himself an alleyway to hide in. He had no idea where he was, but he figured in most times and places it was not polite to strip in front of others.

He took off all but his under clothes and held a flame in his hand, attempting to dry them off. He noticed someone looking at him in shock and he shrugged apologetically before going back to his task. Cullen had just gotten his semi-dry shirt back on when the person returned, pointing at him.

Cullen frowned when a wave of energy hit him. He gasped for breath as he fell down. He tried to summon electricity to his fingers, but found he was unable to. He looked up, seeing three soldiers walk towards him, swords drawn. He recognized the symbol on their chests, but could not place it.

Cullen stood weakly, holding his hands out. They clad him in irons, dragging him out onto the street. He felt the air slowly return to his lungs just as his feet scrapped across the dirt. A swift kick to the side knocked the breath back out of him. 

"What the hell are you doing?" He shouted hoarsely. "What the shit did I ever do to-"

He was tossed up against a wall and punched across the jaw. He cried out, whimpering. This was it, he thought. This is how he would die. 

He started sobbing as they gagged him. He wanted to scream out for help. For someone, anyone to save him. He tried to cry out for help as he saw the group come towards him. The soldier threw him to the ground and he hit his head, the world a daze as the fight broke out. Cullen heard the word again and again: apostate. He fell into unconscious just as he felt someone pick him up.

***

Cullen sat up on the bed, gasping, a man attempting to hold him down. He tried to fight him off and froze, seeing the same familiar brown eyes.

"Dad?"

The man laughed and shook his head. "Maker, I hope not."

"Sit up slowly," he instructed, getting Cullen to the edge of the bed. "You've hit your heard pretty hard. You haven't been out that long, but I still want to make sure you're alright." 

Cullen felt the same magic against his skin. The same hands that healed his scrapes and cuts. The same that lay against his feverish forehead. There was no doubt in his mind that the man standing across from him was Wilhelm Hawke. He was younger...maybe in his early thirties, it was hard to tell. His father was soft around the middle, while this man looked thin and wane. He had known his father was living in Kirkwall running a free clinic, but he had no idea the toll that had taken on him. 

"What year is it?"

He said with a chuckle, "9:33 Dragon. Same as it was before the Templars caught you. You were soaking wet when they brought you in. Are you from the Circle? I'm impressed; you don't see many people escape on their own. Did you have a plan, contacts?"

"No," Cullen admitted.

His father patted him on the back. "You seem alright, but I'd like to keep you here overnight just to make sure. I have a few cots in the back, but I'd rather you not sleep until I know if it's a concussion. Just rest. You'll be safe here."

Cullen smiled, watching him walk off. A personal connection. That was why he was here. Even in this tired, ragged body, he could still recognize his father. He got up slowly and went towards the entrance, freezing when he saw his mother.

She was only a few years older than him, at this point, but looked very similar to as she did in her forties. She was standing beside his father, smiling, almost bashfully. He was blushing slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. She noticed Cullen and waved him over.

"My little apostate is alive!" She cheered. "I was worried, Anders told me you hit your head pretty hard. I'm Hawke, by the way. What can I call you, friend?"

Cullen felt himself go into utter shock. He knew he didn't have time to process this, he had to think of a name. Any name. 

"Brian?" 

"Are you sure?" Hawke teased.

"Brian...yes. That is my name. Brian...um...James."

The only two names he could think of were the Adaar twins. He chastised himself for his lack of originality while Hawke went around, introducing him. Cullen knew their names. Most of these people had been at his birthdays or when the rest of his siblings were born. Even Isabela, who he had only met twice, still wrote him letters and sent him presents all the time. He wasn't so much struck by how young they all were but that they were all here together, with his mother and...

Anders.

He couldn't think about that yet.

"You've gone pale," Hawke said. "Now, Anders says that you need rest and I don't want him fussing all over you. You'll come stay with me at the Estate until we know what to do with you, okay?"

His father protested, "Hawke, if they find-"

Hawke waved him off. "Anders, I've had dozens of apostates staying with me, many bigger targets than this kid. I'll make sure Bodahn wakes him up if he falls asleep. You're busy, let me help out."

Anders sighed and nodded. Hawke took Cullen's arm in hers and led him towards the exit. Cullen looked over his shoulder, seeing his father busy at work with another patient, a tired smile on his face. Cullen started shivering and Hawke rubbed his arms.

"We'll get you some dry clothes," she promised. "It's not far from here."

***

Cullen had been eight when he was told about his parents' parts in the Mage-Templar war. He had only been a few years old when it ended and he had spent most of that time hiding with his father up in the mountains. 

He had asked why his father had taken Hawke as a last name. Sure, a few men took their spouses' last names, but it wasn't common. And while both of his mother's parents were dead by the time he was born, he had at least heard stories of them. Wilhelm told nothing about his life, only stories told to him by his parents' friends, and all of them featured a Wilhelm at the very youngest in his twenties. 

After his stream of questions, Adaia had sat him down and explained.

"Your father and I were part of the mage rebellion in Kirkwall. We both did...things we are not proud of. Maker. I was hard for me, but it was harder for him. There are things he might never talk to you about. We barely made it out of the city alive...but it is best not to dwell. You were named for a Templar, you know. A good man who would have died to protect everyone in that city. He helped us get away safely. Your uncle was named after a Templar, I thought it was the beginnings of a good tradition."

Cullen had heard that part of the story before, in front of the real life Ser Rutherford who had blushed profusely as Varric explained their flight from Kirkwall. Not the moments before, only as they reached the Docks. He was about to ask for more when his mother held his hands in her own.

"Your father wants to move on," his mother murmured. "Let him." 

***

The pieces had started to click into place, things he had tried to ignore for years. Both he and his father had been in Kirkwall at the same time. Both were from the Anderfels. Both Grey Wardens. Both from the Circle Tower in Ferelden. He had always known-at least, always suspected-who exactly his father was.

And now he knew.

He thought he should feel angrier with this, outraged that his father had tricked him for so long. But Anders had never lied to him, never hid the truth. If Cullen had simply asked more questions, he would have known all of this years ago. 

But this knowledge suddenly made his presence here very, very dangerous. While it was likely the Mage-Templar war would begin with or without his father's intervention, it would screw up the time line significantly if Anders or Hawke figured out who he was. He needed to get back to Skyhold as soon as possible. The problem was, he had no idea how. 

Cullen stood in the entranceway of the Hawke Estate. He had known his mother came from nobility, but to see the house he and his siblings could have grown up in...it was almost enough to take his breath away. An elven servant took his wet clothes from him, wrapping him in a blanket to preserve his dignity. Hawke led him past the fireplace, an older woman and a mabari looking up at him.

"One of your strays, pet?"

Hawke laughed, "Yes, mother. He's staying a few days. Make sure you keep Carver out, eh? He'll feel all moral and guilty knowing there's an apostate here. You know, that isn't me." 

Cullen grinned. This was his grandmother. He had heard Adaia talk about her for years and here she was. His grin faltered. Another thing he could mess up in the timeline. 

Hawke led him into a guest room where some far too large clothes were laid out for him. She gave him some privacy while he changed, happy to finally be warm.

"You have any family you'd like me to contact?" She asked, her back still turned.

"No, I'm okay."

"They got you when you were little," she said softly. "It happens. You're from Ferelden, aren't you? Somewhere in the Frostbacks?"

Cullen laughed as she turned to face him. "How did you know?"

"I've always been good with accents," Hawke said, sitting on the bed. "Now, you tell me about yourself. I like getting to know my guests."

"Um, well," Cullen said, blushing. "I was born in Jader. I've got three sisters, two brothers."

"That must be handful for your poor mother," Hawke chuckled. "I swear I can't imagine ever having kids, never mind six." 

"She manages," Cullen said awkwardly. 

"Did you come here after the Blight?"

"The what?-Right. The Blight. Yes. It was horrible. So bad."

Cullen groaned. He knew how stupid he sounded.

"Okay then," Hawke said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm going to go get some work done. You just...hang tight. Give me a call if you need anything."

***

Cullen woke hearing angry whispers outside his door. He opened his eyes slowly and tried to listen in, recognizing his parents' voices.

"I've already booked him passage to Ostwick, he can get to Orlais from there."

"And what's he going to do in Orlais, Anders? He's got no family, no money-"

"Well, he can't stay here."

"I get to decide who stays and who doesn't in my home."

"Every minute he's here puts you in danger, Hawke. Please...if something happened to you..."

"I know. You've made this same speech a hundred times. Are you jealous? You already made it quite clear that you have no intention of being with me, so I'm not allowed to bat my eyes at any other handsome apostates?"

Cullen grimaced. This was going into territory that he was not comfortable with. 

"That's not why I'm-"

"Anders, just go. Please."

Cullen lay back in bed, pretending to be asleep. Thankfully she didn't come in. His heart started racing. Of all the things he had been concerned with altering, such as the fate of all of Thedas, he never thought the thing he would screw up was his parents getting together. What if they didn't? Would he just disappear?

He poked at his hand and held it up to the light. Still there. For now. 

He needed help. He couldn't rely on anyone in the future as there was a good possibility that Dorian would still be yelling at Zola and Kieran for the next three decades. So he had to use someone here. Someone who would believe him. Someone who was discreet. Someone who was a good liar.

Varric. He needed Varric. 

***

Cullen barely slept that night, waiting for an excuse, any excuse to go to the Hanged Man. He got his opportunity when a message came from Isabela in the early morning. Hawke refused to leave him alone and brought him along to see her, worried that he would somehow stumble back into the sea.

Once Hawke was busy talking to Isabela, Cullen raced up the stairs, looking for Varric. The dwarf was in his own suite, busy writing. Cullen hesitated before knocking.

"Hey Fish," Varric said, glancing up. "What brings you here?"

"I thought the joke was that I couldn't swim," Cullen teased.

"I spent a good hour trying to think of an animal that couldn't," Varric admitted. "Fish is good enough."

"Can I talk to you...alone?"

"You're cute," Varric laughed, "but you're not my type."

Cullen shuddered at the image and closed the door, locking it behind him. He sat down across the room, far across the room, and started explaining things far too quickly. Varric eventually stopped him.

"Say it slowly, kid. What's wrong?"

Cullen ran his hands through his hair and said finally, "I'm from the future. I was born in 9:37 Dragon. I'm from the year 9:55 Dragon."

Varric laughed, putting his face in his hands.

"Kid, that is the stupidest, bullshittiest-"

"I can prove it," Cullen protested. "Your crossbow. Bianca. I know who she's named after."

Varric stopped laughing and looked up at him as Cullen explained, "There's a woman named Bianca who you're in love with. She's married to someone else. You see each other every once in awhile and you thought-think she's the love of your life. You claim its the one story you'll never tell, but about six months ago you got really drunk and told me about it."

Varric's face hardened. "If this is some kind of joke-"

Cullen panicked and blurted out, "What book are you writing right now?"

Varric tilted his head and asked in confusion, "What?"

"It's 9:33," Cullen reasoned. "You're writing the first _Swords and Shields_ right now. It's a present for Aveline, because you think she'll have a laugh at it because she's becoming Guard Captain soon. Or is now, I don't know the exact date. But you were thinking of showing it to your publisher, because your non-fiction isn't exactly making you money."

Varric asked, "Who are you, kid? Really."

"You have to never say a word about this, not to anyone, ever. The literal fate of the world could be decided if you tell the wrong person."

Varric shrugged. "Why not? Shoot."

"My name is Cullen Hawke."

"Hawke?"

"Adaia is my mother," Cullen explained. 

Varric glanced over him and asked nervously, "I'm not your father, am I?"

Cullen laughed and shook his head.

"Thank the Maker," Varric sighed. "Who is?"

"Anders."

Varric grinned. "Blondie? I knew he was still sweet on her. Well, we all know. The man is about as subtle as a sledgehammer. So...what are you doing here?"

"I fell through a hole in time that my very, very stupid friend made," Cullen sighed in relief. "I'm not sure how to get back. I can't screw up the timeline anymore than I already have. I think I already blew it because those two are bickering over me."

"So...the Grey Wardens' tanks actually are full?"

"What? Ew. Well. Kind of," Cullen said. "I'm a bit of an anomaly."

"So...you need these two to get together and to get back to your time? This sounds oddly familiar...did I write this in a serial?"

"Focus, Varric. I'm telling you because I knew you would believe me and love a good story too much to ruin it for everyone else. Please."

Varric sighed, "There is one person I need to tell. She's less discreet but..."

***

Merrill gasped aloud, "The Future?"

"Yes," Varric said. "Can your tricky mirror pull that off?"

"Varric, I barely get it to glitter," Merrill protested. "I can't even send him a few feet down the street, never mind twenty years later. I'm sorry, Brian, but I can't do it."

Cullen thought about this and said, "Varric, do you have a piece of paper?"

Varric pulled him a scrap from his folio and handed it to Cullen. He wrote a quick message on it.

"Do you have some string?" He asked Merrill.

She handed him a ball of twine and his dagger. Cullen punched through the note and tied it around the top of the eluvian.

"Merrill," Cullen said, taking her hands, "promise me that you will not take that note off. Not now, not ever. You will always keep it on there. And if some reason you can't, carry it with you. Do you promise?"

"Yes."

"What does it say, Fish?"

Cullen explained, "It's a message to a friend, someone who studies eluvians. One day, she will find it and she will know where I am and help me, or tell someone else who can help me. It's the date, my location and what time it is. I'm guessing on that last bit, so it should be any-"

He looked over his shoulder and sighed, "Damn, I really hoped that was going to work. Come on, Morrigan."

"It might yet," Merrill said, standing beside him. "Let's just keep waiting for awhile."

Varric looked over at the blank space with them before looking up at Cullen.

"There's some other things we can work on in the mean time," Varric said. "You know, before you go."

Varric made a gesture of bumping his fists together that made Cullen blanche. 

"Right. Let's...go...do that."

***

Anders was busy in his clinic, obviously exhausted as he followed a refugee, attempting to describe to them how to prevent venereal disease. He glanced up briefly before going back to work. 

"I don't have time for cards, Varric," Anders apologized. "Is Hawke's latest companion doing any better? What did you call this one, Trout?" 

"Fish," Cullen corrected.

Anders saw him and shrugged. "Sorry. Good to see you made it through the night. Hawke dropped by earlier, she said she wants you to go to the tavern with everyone tonight. I might not make it, but you all have fun."

Cullen nudged Varric slightly and coughed.

"You know, you could use a break, Blondie. I think Hawke would really, really like to see you tonight."

Anders laughed, "I doubt that. She stormed out of here after our talk. Called me, I think, impossible, ridiculous, and arrogant. She'd be happier without me. There's no point in spending my little free time arguing with...her." Anders shot Cullen a glance. "Especially if there's other people she'd rather be spending time with."

Cullen could count at least a dozen times he had heard his mother call his father any combination of those things and much worse. He was not terribly concerned by this. However, there was one way to nip this in the bud. 

"I'm...gay."

The pair looked at him in confusion as Cullen rambled on, "100% not into women at all ew ladies gay. So gay. Gayer than...Do-dozens of other people. So gay."

"...Thank you for sharing," Anders said in confusion. 

Varric raised an eyebrow and Cullen sighed. He remembered his father was bisexual and had only decreased by half the chances of one of his parents hitting on him. A sentence that no one should ever have to think to oneself.

"I have a boyfriend in Orlais," he added hoarsely. "He's...really tall."

Varric put his arm around Cullen. "Okay. We're going to be going now. We'll see you tonight?"

Anders said, "I'll try. You two...have fun."

As they left the clinic, Varric hissed in his ear, "You are the world's worst liar."

"I know," Cullen grumbled, "but I needed to get myself off the table. It was too creepy. You couldn't come up with something weirder...look, don't put this into one of your serials, okay?"

Varric cleared his throat. "Of course not."

***

Varric dumped Cullen back off at the Hawke Estate in the late afternoon, claiming he was worried about too many more "spoilers". Cullen sat by the fire nervously, petting the mabari lying at his feet. There was something both eerie and comforting about this. Max had been an old hound by the time Cullen was a child and had passed away in his sleep around the time Cullen was six. But here he was. Happily snoring away. 

The dog stirred as loud footsteps echoed in the room and Cullen looked up to see Hawke stomping down, Leandra following closely behind her.

"I told you, I don't want him near here, the men will get the wrong idea."

"Oh trust me, he won't be around here anymore. Stupid glowy blue bastard. What does he think telling me how much I can be involved in the Underground-"

"That's not what I-"

" 'Oh, I'm Anders, I think mages should have full autonomy in their lives, but not Hawke. Hawke should marry a Templar and have Templar babies and be rich and I'll be alll alone and cry myself to sleep' UGH."

"Adaia, he might have the right idea, as much as I hate to say it."

"And you're just as bad!"

Hawke stopped at the end of the staircase and looked up at her mother.

"It's my life," Hawke said firmly. "I choose. I have a duty to my people to protect them. I love you and I love my family. I would do anything for you. But I will not marry some rich noble and pass for some princess when my brothers and sisters are dying in the streets. I know you don't like him. Right now, I don't like him either, and you know what, I'd be perfectly happy not seeing him again. But I will bring as many apostate men into this house as I like because it is MY house."

"I have a boyfriend in Orlais."

The two looked over at Cullen, who was trying his hardest not to blush. 

Leandra rolled her eyes and stomped back up the stairs.

"No offense," Hawke said, "but you're a little young for me. But good for you."

"You should see Anders tonight at the tavern," Cullen said, shuffling his feet. "I saw him today with Varric and he was saying that he missed you..."

Hawke laughed, "I doubt that. I certainly do not miss him. That blonde little asshole can go take a long walk off a short pier. Hopefully into a pool of wading Tal-Vasoth."

"Maybe I should go-"

"Where?" Hawke gestured. "Out into Hightown? You're going to be picked off the second you're not with me or Varric. You barely got yourself out of the water. No, you stay put. Mother and I can go continue arguing elsewhere."

"I think we are done, darling," Leandra said, waving her off.

Hawke groaned and flopped down on the ground beside Cullen's chair, letting Leandra stomp off.

"Would I really get picked off so easily?" Cullen asked, looking down at her.

"You were on land less than five minutes," she reminded. "And you were lucky I was in the area. You can stay with me longer, but you're a target the longer you're here. I'm visible and eventually someone will notice you."

"Just another day or so," he promised. "I'm still trying to figure out...how I'm getting to where I'm going and when I'm going there...it's complicated."

"You're a very odd duck," Hawke said, glancing over him.

"I have been told that once or twice."

***

The Hanged Man was packed, but Hawke managed to push her way towards the booth. Cullen got squeezed in beside her and handed some cards. His mother's and father's friends shuffled in and out of the booth, some dancing, some getting hammered at the bar. 

During one hand, he noticed his parents sitting beside each other. He could make out only in vague whispers what they were saying, but he knew they were apologizing to each other. Hawke smiled at him before rising with a few others, her hand lingering on Anders'. 

Suddenly, it was just the two of them. Cullen looked across at his father, the man looking back at him as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. There were a hundred things he wanted to ask his father in that moment, but knew there was something much more important for him to say. 

"You should ask her out," Cullen said.

Anders laughed, drinking deeper into his cup. "She's too good for me. Trust me...it won't end well."

Cullen smiled nervously. "You never know. You might end up living together in a cabin with a bunch of kids. And several quite sucky cats."

Anders shook his head and said, "I don't think so...that's...just not going to happen."

Cullen said, "She likes you...really likes you. Just...you deserve to be happy. I just know it's not worth both of you being miserable when you both want the same thing. The same things are important to both of you and you...you really like each other. So you should try to be happy. Give it a shot." 

Anders asked with a chuckle, "How much have you had to drink?"

"Too much," Cullen lied. "But you should go get us another anyways."

Anders rose and walked towards the bar. Hawke acknowledged him, before turning back to her conversation with Isabela. Anders put his hand on her shoulder and she looked back to him, smiling softly. He tucked her hair behind her ear and she blushed. Isabela walked off but neither noticed, the two falling deep in conversation. Cullen smiled, watching Anders' hand clasp hers.

He heard a cough and turned slightly, seeing an irritated Dorian in the corner of the room, his hood over his head. Cullen tried to speak, but Dorian grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the tavern. They walked down towards the water, seeing a large woman who was obviously the Inquisitor standing with her arms crossed.

Cullen saw the Inquisitor create a rift, a small black hole appearing in the sea. Dorian held onto her and grabbed Cullen, pulling him close.

"Hang on," she ordered.

***

Cullen found himself with his eyes closed, flat on his back. He felt the soft grass and looked up, holding his aching head. He heard the laughter of his two youngest sisters. They were making Dorian a flower crown while he pretended to protest. Cullen walked towards the house he grew up in, hearing his mother and Adaar talking to each other quite angrily, blaming each other for what had happened. 

"How long was I out?" He asked.

They both ignored him, continuing to shout at each other. Cullen rubbed his temple and kept walking, finding his father out on the back deck, sitting in his chair and looking out into the mountains.

"I wasn't still wearing that earring, was I?" He asked finally.

Cullen shook his head and sat down across from him.

"I know, Dad," Cullen said quietly. "About who you were. I saw you working yourself to the bone. Mama always told me not to pry, but I suspected...I just wish you had told me yourself."

"I never lied to you," Anders said softly, turning to face him. 

"I thought I was going to die," Cullen said. "I was just walking down the street and I was nearly killed. To live with that everyday...I know why you never said anything. But we're safe now. So tell me the truth, Papa." 

His father leaned forward and took his son's hands in his own.

"I was the mage who blew up the Chantry," Anders admitted. "I started the Mage-Templar war. I regret that it was done, but I do not regret that it was me who did it. Whatever sins mages did during the war, let them be heaped on me. I left it up to your mother then what my fate would be. Maker knows why, she let me live. We fled towards Ferelden. We intended to travel with the mages, for as long as it was safe, but I was dying with guilt and I...I was going to give myself over to the Templars. My part was done, it didn't matter what was done to me."

"So what happened?"

He smiled. "You did. We had been on the road a month or so when your mother realized she was pregnant. I know you don't want to hear details about that sort of thing, but we realized that your little life had started the night we left Kirkwall. I felt...this strange sense of relief. Not like I was being rewarded, but I was given a chance. I once said to Adaia that I was fighting for a world in which our children would be free. I always thought I meant that figuratively...but then there was you. Our miracle. I knew it was time to start over. I hid who I was not to protect myself, but to protect you. After the Taint was cured...well, as you know, you have brothers and sisters, who I love just as much. But you were a sign that my life was worth living, right when I needed it the most."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Anders said finally. 

Cullen wiped away his tears and embraced his father.

"Thank you for giving me a chance, Dad." Cullen whispered.

Anders held back a sob and ruffled his hair, holding him at arm's length.

"Go on," he said. "You should get something to eat before you head back to Skyhold."

"You think I should head back?" Cullen asked. "Didn't this whole thing prove that I wasn't ready for advanced magic?"

Anders laughed. "The Inquisitor has better things to do than go fishing around for you. If you're going to be clumsy enough to fall through time, the least you can do is learn how to get yourself back on your own. Just next time...listen to Kieran."


End file.
